<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>I Dream of Rain by RookSacrifice</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25275298">I Dream of Rain</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RookSacrifice/pseuds/RookSacrifice'>RookSacrifice</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>It's Good To See You [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime &amp; Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Drama &amp; Romance, Dream Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Prideshipping, Reincarnation, Romance, Scandalshipping, Sexual Content, Tragic Romance, [explicit], [implicit]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:35:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,968</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25275298</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RookSacrifice/pseuds/RookSacrifice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>[oneshot] In the afterlife, Atem reads entries from Pharaoh Seto’s epistolary dream journal.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Atem/Kaiba Seto, Atem/Priest Seto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>It's Good To See You [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985782</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>106</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Dream of Rain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <b>While you're here PLEASE do yourself a favor and read along to the A M A Z I N G <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27321676">podfic version</a> recorded by the incomparable <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/arkadyevna/pseuds/arkadyevna">arkadyevna</a> who's angelic voice breathed life into this fic in a way I could have never dreamed of!!</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Slight trigger warning for past abuse.</p><p>(Disclaimer – I’m a mathematician, not an Egyptologist, armed only with the power of JSTOR and wikipedia)</p><p>Cultural Notes, feel free to skip:</p><p>Dream interpretation was regarded by ancient peoples in Mesopotamia, Egypt, Greece, and Rome as an art requiring intelligence and, sometimes, divine inspiration. It was treated as a science by philosophers and physicians. Dreams were thought to come either as clear messages, or as symbols requiring interpretation. (Hughes, J. D. (2000). Dream interpretation in ancient civilizations. Dreaming, 10(1), 7–18.)</p><p>Shatranj is the Persian name for the Indian game chaturaṅga and is the ancient precursor to chess. Technically it did not originate until the Gupta empire, but we can bend the rules in fiction to pretend it came from the time of Bharata. For your prideshipping delights, a notable difference between Shatranj and modern chess is that the “queen” is named the “vizier” instead (;</p><p>The name Atem literally means “perfection” or “completeness”</p><p>Berbere and coffee come from Ethiopia, also called the “Blue Nile” as the civilization was built up around one of the two major tributaries of the Nile river (the other being the White Nile) I think it’s fair to say a king could indulge in goods from there since they’re Egypt’s southern neighbour.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Mahad?”</p><p>Atem noticed him shiver with a start as his voice broke the silence of the library.</p><p>“Yes, my King. Is there something I might help you with?”</p><p>“The writings that are housed here...” Atem let his gaze wander over the maze of shelves brimming with a thousand years of tomes and parchment. “Are these only from before I died?”</p><p>“The gods’ view of time is not quite so linear as our own,” Mahad said. “All is now as it once was.”</p><p>Atem paused for a moment, toying with his fingers while debating internally if he should even ask Mahad what was on his mind.</p><p>“You are looking for something, my King. Please, speak. It is my position to assist you in all matters in this life as in the last.”</p><p>Atem swallowed and turned away. “I am looking for something written by Priest Seto.”</p><p>The air grew perceptibly colder with this admission and Atem watched Mahad stiffen out of the corner of his eye, folding his arms across his chest before he replied.</p><p>“Priest Seto wrote a great many things during his reign.”</p><p>“Then you’ve read them?” Atem looked back at Mahad and saw the pale paint of red tint his cheek and ears before vanishing just as quick as it appeared. The mage still refused to look him in the eye.</p><p>“Of course not. His... <em> musings </em> are meaningless to me.”</p><p>“Please, Mahad,” Atem’s gaze was beseeching and Mahad’s steadfast refusal crumpled under the weight of obligation. He gave a defeated sigh.</p><p>“As you will it, my King.”</p><p>Mahad’s demeanor was distant while Atem patiently waited for him to close his books and shuffle an array of papers about, littered with a hatch of mystic runes he recognized as the old magick. The mage pushed himself away from the table and passed Atem without a word or spare glance as he led them to the hall of kings, a special archive with the writings of bygone pharaohs meticulously preserved from the elements.</p><p>The room was black as pitch, presumably to protect the delicate inks from deteriorating in the sun. The only light came from Mahad’s oil lamp, which he held at a careful distance from the shelves, searching the stone carved dates with squinted eyes. When he reached the time of Priest Seto’s reign, Mahad let out an exasperated snort.</p><p>“Please hold this, my King.” Mahad handed him the dim lantern and Atem stared at the densely packed volumes and parchment, filling thrice as many shelves as several other pharoah’s sections. As promised, it seemed his priest had left quite an exhaustive record of his life.</p><p>Mahad seemed to be looking for something in particular. His fingers shuffled through several items, pulling them out and pressing them back, mumbling to himself with minor frustration. His face took on a practiced passive expression when at last he settled on one piece.</p><p>“Perhaps this might be of interest to you,” Mahad pulled from the shelf a thin, weathered press of folios bound together with a leather tie. Atem ran his fingers over the characters carved into the smooth wooden cover.</p><p>“A dream record?” Atem furrowed his brow. “This is from the year after my death...”</p><p>“Indeed.”</p><p>“But why give me this? All pharaohs record their dreams for interpretation, it is tradition.” Atem said.</p><p>“According to Mana, Priest Seto was adamant in his refusal of dream interpreters for the entirety of his rule.” Mahad ground his teeth and this time Atem watched the mage’s face turn an unmistakable scarlet under his tawny skin.</p><p>“Thank you, Mahad. You are a most cherished friend.” Atem gave the slightest nod and pressed the writings to his chest.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> Twentieth day of Choiak, fourth moon of floods </em>
</p><p>A fortnight has come and gone since your passing, my pharoah, and all is not as it once was.</p><p>It is the season of floods yet our lands remain barren. The earth itself is salted with tears mourning your departure from this world, and our harvests will be meager in your absence.</p><p>I fear the confounding of all right and wrong, in wild fury, has averted from us the gracious favor of the gods. I have given up wanting to deserve any thanks from anyone, or thinking that anyone should be so grateful.</p><p>I am not fit to rule in your stead.</p><p> </p><p>Tonight, I dreamt of a holy pilgrimage.</p><p>Without retinue, I traversed alien sands beneath unfamiliar stars, my pharaoh, to these melancholy rites. To show this final honor to the dead and speak (<em> for what purpose? </em> ) to your silent figure, since now fate steals you, <em> even you </em>, from me.</p><p>I have lost you, my pharaoh, And your death has ended the spring season of my happiness. Our country is buried with you and buried in the friendship that you taught me.</p><p>There are no thoughts of bliss nor of hope in my head since you died.</p><p>Oh, my pharaoh, torn away from me so cruelly, now at least take this paltry offering I call my life—my sorrowful tribute—which by the custom of our fathers has been handed down for a funeral sacrifice in service to you.</p><p>Accept what a friend's tears drown, and, for eternity, my pharaoh, glory and good-bye.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> Fourth day of Tybi, first moon of growth </em>
</p><p>I dreamt of a corrupted reality.</p><p>We were dueling, so high above a metallic city I could touch the lead colored sky, bruised with violet clouds.</p><p>I watched you from across some peculiar grey dais, cloaked in robes of shadow, your arms and neck bound with leather and silver. The millenium pendant was chained to your throat.</p><p>You were flanked by some cortège of foreigners who named you <em> Yami – </em>The Darkness. I know not how I learned this; I simply knew.</p><p>I screamed to you over the howling winds, but my lips moved in tongues incomprehensible, until nothing was left of the voice in my mouth. I made haste to run to you, but my limbs were extinguished of flame and I fell to my knees.</p><p>I watched as a helpless phantom imprisoned in my own mind while you summoned the sky-dragon Osiris. The winged serpent let forth a piercing screech from the two mouths of hell and cracked the heavens with the rage of Baal. Above the harsh fury, the din and the shouting, I heard your skyward-rising call.</p><p>“<em> Kaiba </em>!”</p><p>Is this the name you gave me in this place, my pharaoh? I know not what it means.</p><p>I felt my hands move of their own volition, tied to the indefatigable will of a horse who could never tire, and placed a card on the smooth, white platter lashed to my arm. And lo, from the primordial abyss of Nu, Obelisk, the tormentor, was summoned to battle and the colosseum crumbled beneath the burden of the towering colossus. The air was ablaze with the spark of thunder and the whole earth shook with the omnipotence of the gods.</p><p>All at once, my vision was flooded with the blinding brilliance of the rays of Ra and the great beasts collapsed, ravaged and spent in a mutual destruction. But the eye’s passing was brief before the storm of battle picked up once again.</p><p>I counted twenty-five turns before I lay my losing card and the tireless campaign ended in your victory. Even my beloved Kisara was trampled under foot by your ceaseless advance. I yearned to weep, but my eyes were dry.</p><p>You spoke to me in a language I could not understand, but I was contented by the familiar timbre of your voice.</p><p>I awoke swaddled in the midnight of my loneliness.</p><p><em> Yami </em>...</p><p>If you truly are the darkness, my pharaoh, when my light has sunk into the earth I pray that you welcome me with open arms.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> First day of Mechir, second moon of growth </em>
</p><p>I dreamt of our final duel again. I suppose I found not what I sought.</p><p>My soul pleads to do it over, for another version, a different shuffle, another draw, the hands played over and over, another slight of fate. My martyr Pharaoh, forget these dragons, leave these cards on the table; my words have nothing to do with sacrifice.</p><p>I prostrated myself until my tears made mud of the dirt, imploring your forgiveness. Begging like a blasphemer to any god who might hear and make you stay.</p><p>Mahad had taken the form of your dark magician. He lorded over the field and the miasma of his enmity choked me with rage. Tonight the silent bastard had the gall to chastise me.</p><p>“Eat your heart, Seto, you treacherous jackal. Even now your flesh burns red with ire and leaves your soul barren as the desert sands.”</p><p>My ears burned to be rid of his sanctimonious babble.</p><p>“You’ve wrought naught but chaos and envy on the palace of the King and your betrayal is truly befitting of the moniker Set.”</p><p>When my eyes at last found you, my pharoah, yours found the ground. My body was wracked with the agony of his black illusions. I did not tear my gaze from you until my constitution betrayed me, and I could no longer see.</p><p> </p><p>Fuck you, Mahad.</p><p>Some lioness whelped you on a mountain rock in Libya, or else you're Ammit's child whose womb bears nothing but barking dogs, for only a wild beast with the nature of a beast could mock a desperate man making a last appeal down on his knees. Son of a bitch with a heart too hard to feel!</p><p>I hate you, Mahad!</p><p>You think me so weak? I will journey to the afterlife just to sodomize you and face-fuck you.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> Twelfth day of Phamenoth, third moon of growth </em>
</p><p>I dreamt of a maze built of gold and clay.</p><p>The shuffling of my sandals gave a hollow echo off the halls brimming with emptiness. The passage of time seemed an illusion and I forgot myself in the writings on the walls. Spells from the book of the dead branded every surface and my fingers traced a cartouche which bore your name. My heart swelled and was ready to burst with longing and a certainty that I would die in this place—alone—that Aaru did not await me.</p><p>I remembered myself in the silence with only the company of my thoughts, and I mulled in regret over all the things I’d done. My aimless feet carried me down an infinite stairwell deep into the belly of the labyrinth. I wondered if I was truly damned to wander this dream until my death.</p><p>On a narrow landing I immediately recognized a regal door, carved with Uraei and adorned with handsome indigos and leafed in gold, that led to your private quarters in the palace. I reached for the handle and caught the glint of a warped crystalline marble, the one you deviously lodged in the eye of Horus to see through the door in one direction. My fingers lingered in the air over the knob, calculating your familiar schemes lest my haste betray me. </p><p>It is no mighty glory to deceive a credulous mind, my pharaoh, and I’ve grown too intimate with your games to play the victim. </p><p>With only one door in and out of the room, I was certain there was a way to disarm your trap from the outside. I knelt to the ground, slipping my fingers through the narrow slit between the wood and the floor, delicately searching for some peculiarity, when I grazed a taught thread of twine. My touch followed the string to the hinge, pulling free the tie. I heard the distinct t<em> hunk </em> of an arrow boring in the door and saw it bow and splinter from the force through the other side. </p><p>My fingers traced the wooden wound and I swallowed the cotton in my mouth. To think I might have been so reckless to let you pierce my heart… </p><p>When I entered your room, a forgotten game of shatranj awaited the next move on a low table beside a tasse of coffee wafting steam into the air. The disheveled sheets looked slept in and a lonesome oil lantern still burned at the bedside. I lifted your downy pillow and inhaled the aroma of musk and dates and berbere. My face burned with fever and my stomach twisted with pining. </p><p>I thought of waiting for you there, that I might summon you by the tears shed for your cruel departure, my pharaoh, and if I died ere your arrival you may yet collect my scattered bones. But this place was built to torture and I vowed not to let its illusions capture my heart. </p><p>I blew out the light and shut the door behind me, without another glance and without resetting your trap.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> Sixteenth day of Pharmuthi, fourth month of growth </em>
</p><p>Shatranj will always be my favorite game.</p><p>The idle mind ruins both kings and wealthy cities and I was fixing for a match today during an uncommonly dry session of civil works planning. But alas, I buried the only board with you, my pharaoh. I could have another made, but the only worthy rival to my cleverness has vanished on the dark road whence they assure me none return. </p><p>I do not know whom I attempt to fool when I fill these pages--it would be a lie to pretend replacing that board would not tear my heart to pieces. </p><p>I have fond memories of whiling away the hours with you playing senet ad nauseam until every move had been broken down to the point of boredom. There are only so many combinations of play, and the game lost its lustre once we both memorized every outcome. We enjoyed tab and mehen, too, until the moves were so well-worn I could recite them drunk and backwards. It seemed there were no tricks we could not master and nothing that could satiate my desire to outwit you. </p><p>I worried we might succumb to ennui and abandon our games, if such a thing could ever be imagined. We craved a novel challenge. </p><p>I was wandering the marketplace one morning in the second decan of Pachons and every stall was in frenzied disarray with brewing excitement over the grand annual festival of your birth. I was looking to buy cinnamon for my coffee and I entered the finely woven canvas tents of some oriental caravan. The air was laced with cloying perfumes of incense and opium, and I spied two handsome brown-eyed strangers bent over an exotic game board—my curiosity could not be contained. They called it Shatranj, the game of four divisions, from the court of Bharata in the east. I spent the entire day learning from the foreigners until I could best them, and spent a whole year’s savings to buy the magnificent bejewelled board. </p><p>On the twenty-fifth of Pachons, the palace was deafening with the resounding levity of your festivities. Isis and Shimon and the rest of your court were seated at the long table, and the insistent caterwauling echoing through the hall only seemed to grow the more drink was poured. Mana’s tinny chatter fell out in torrents, boasting her modest magical abilities beside Mahad on the left of the table. You always gave me the honor of the seat at your right, and I know nothing could have irked him more. Their laughter was vexing and I felt my head beginning to ache. I poured myself another beer and shot him a sneer from across the table. I’ve never been one for parties. </p><p>The time came for the presentation of offerings, and you repeated those practiced platitudes to every fawning dignitary and the pile of jewels and goods threatened to spill off the table in a deluge of avarice. I poured myself another beer. Again. As expected, Mahad saw fit to run his carping mouth. He quirked an eyebrow.</p><p>“You didn’t bring anything, priest?”  If he meant to goad me with his self-satisfaction, it was working. </p><p>“Why would I waste my time on a gift for a man who has everything?” I said.</p><p>“It is <em> tradition </em> and a sign of <em> respect </em>. Something you obviously know nothing about.” </p><p>“Climb off your horse, Mahad, you get him the same thing every year.”</p><p>“It is an urn carved with the auspices of fortune and protection and requires a discipline and craftsmanship that you lack.” Mahad was on the defensive.</p><p>“My presence is the present. That easily bests your frivolous magick jar.”</p><p>“<em> SETO--! </em>” Mahad growled back through his teeth before being interrupted.</p><p>I could hear you battling to restrain your mirth when you spoke, my pharaoh, your voice dripping with impish ridicule. </p><p>“I am flattered that you deign to be so… <em> charming </em> for this occasion, priest, such geniality is a rare treat indeed.” You flashed a wicked smirk at Mahad when you addressed him in turn. “As with any gift, it’s the thought that counts.” </p><p>Mahad mirrored my crossed arms and scowl from across the table. As the evening wore on you feigned ignorance to our exchanges but your eyes were alight with amusement. The feasting had started before noon, and it was not long after sunset when your guests had drank and ate their fill, finally retreating to their quarters. </p><p>I know my motivations for catching you alone were entirely self-serving, but I couldn’t bear the thought of you accepting my gift with some banal gratitude in a room of vapid eavesdroppers. Or worse, watching you play against Mahad instead of me. So I remained patient until the footsteps in the halls faded for the night before crossing the west wing to your door and gave the familiar knock you’d recognize as me. </p><p>“Priest?” In my memory you look so fragile, your bleary eyes wearing a subtle smear in the kohl. Your slender frame swam in a linen tunic and was dwarfed further beside the enormity of the gaudy door. “It's growing late… Is something the matter?” You gestured for me to come inside.</p><p>“My apologies if I woke you, my pharaoh.” I said before noting several lamps were still lit. </p><p>“You did not, but you know I wouldn’t mind if you had.” You said. Falling into our wonted routine, I flopped onto a fluffy pile of embroidered cushions across from you at the low table and you poured two cups of coffee from the warmed pitcher. </p><p>“Can’t sleep? This won’t help.” I drew the warm cup to my lips to blow on it.</p><p>“I didn’t want to.” You mimicked the movement and an amicable silence settled over the room. I saw you eyeing the box I brought along with interest so I slid the unassuming item towards you. You gave a suspect look.</p><p>“A gift? I hope Mahad didn’t guilt you into this.”</p><p>“Don’t be stupid, I got this decans ago.” You coaxed me into an admission I wasn’t planning to make and my face flushed when I caught your supercilious expression.  </p><p>You excused my misstep, still fixated on the modest wooden box. You lifted the lid, letting the sides fall down to reveal the lavish checked game board hewn from precious ivory and ebony. The seams between the squares were filled in with gold and the whole surface rested on an intricately carved stand with inlaid gems and golden tiger’s paws for feet. Miniature armies of elephants, horses, chariots and foot soldiers cast from pewter and jade were made to maneuver from tile to tile to protect each shah and his vizier. </p><p>I watched your breath hitch and your eyes swell in the lamplight until only a thin carmine rim remained of their color. You picked up the petit sapphire-eyed vizier and his rival ruby-eyed shah counterpart and turned them over reverently in your hand. I didn’t miss the little wet streaks on your cheeks when you looked up again.</p><p>“Seto… I… This is…” Your words were so soft they were nearly lost on the air. “Seto this is too much. I can’t accept this.”</p><p>“Of course you can, pharaoh, who else am I going to beat at this game?”</p><p>You gave a tender chuckle and ran the heel of your palm beneath your eye, smearing the kohl worse than before, and gave a warm smile that all but stopped my heart from beating.  Before I could move to stop you, your nimble body lunged over the table, careful not to disrupt the board, and entangled me in a fierce embrace. For an instant I was too petrified to move, and your thin fingers wound so tight in my hair I thought they might tear it out from the root. My mind screamed to push you away, but for once I let my heart win out. With the lightest touch I wrapped my arms around your slight frame and inhaled the smell of dates and berbere and <em> you </em>, my pharaoh. And I am so happy I did, if only to suffer the serenity of this memory in your wake.  </p><p>“Thank you, Seto.” You whispered. The moment did not linger long enough. You drew back to your side of the table, and we played Shatranj until dawn. </p><p> </p><p>And so it came to be after a long day of reminiscing that I dreamt a scene so commonplace I was nearly seduced by the bittersweet delusion. </p><p>We shared only the other’s company, my pharaoh, stooped over a game in my favorite corner of the veranda on a sweltering summer afternoon. My gaze was the compass needle and your body the north, and no restraint could tear my eyes away. Though the cunning craftsman thinks he gives you new beauty with circlets of brilliant gold, that sacrosanct twin could never compete with the pure figure before me, liberated of all your royal trimmings and burdens. A clear sunbeam smote your god-like head and shoulders; truly the son of your own heavenly father, Ra, you received youth's lucent glow, eyes of joyful fire, with wild tresses clustering on your sweat-damp skin. You wore only a sheer cotton shendyt and left little to be imagined when you pulled your bare foot up on the chair, resting your chin on your knee. </p><p>I kept my hand pressed to my lips in pointed concentration and endeavored to stare at nothing but the shatranj board. The effort proved futile. I was tormented under the weight of dreadful penalties so justly earned, for so has your unchanging will ordained to punish me for my reticence in life. If only I’d revealed the truth of my affections, perhaps you would not thus haunt my dreams. </p><p>You captured my chariot and the opalescent glint of your delight crept out from behind your olive lips. You beamed at me, and I felt my stomach stir. Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, you smile. It is a malady of yours, my pharaoh, and neither an elegant one nor in good taste. </p><p>The swelling streams of flowing flood within my channels sank, and hill did rise above the waves. As the waters of my head did decrease another did seem to grow... After a long and tedious hesitation your shrewd eyes drifted south and their lust stripped me bare. Your licentious scrutiny turned dark with mischief and you drew your thumb across your lips.</p><p>I fear I’ve never known true calamity before that moment, and perhaps in some happier time I may find this dream amusing. For now, I longed to bury my face in my hands and throw my body upon the pyre. I tried to spare my dignity by returning to the game, but it was already too late. My focus crumbled turns ago. </p><p>“Your Shah is finished!” </p><p>Your face shown positively radiant with the taste of victory’s ambrosia and your scintillating laughter resonated deep in my bones. Godlike the man who sits at your side, who watches and catches that laughter which softly tears me to tatters; nothing is left of me each time I see you.</p><p>You are a fool, my pharaoh. </p><p>And there is nothing more foolish than the laughter of a fool. </p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> Twenty-fifth of Pachons, first moon of the low waters </em>
</p><p>Today was the festival of your birth, yet still you deign to visit me in my dreams. I am grateful, my pharaoh. </p><p>I found myself wading in the Nile, through the river rushes under a swollen silver moon. Her lazy currents rippled around my calves and fondly tugged at my fingertips resting on the cool surface.  A whisper of air rustled the grass and you came walking with the wind upon the clear hyaline between water and horizon. </p><p>I made to meet you but the sons of Wadjet were twined around the stem of your legs and hissed and struck at my hands. You gave a gentle hush and the serpents laid to rest by your divine command. </p><p>You knelt on the surface of the water, taking my face in your hands, and my eyelids fluttered shut under the intensity of your gaze. </p><p>“My priest” </p><p>You pressed your lips to my eye on the side of Horus.</p><p>“My friend”</p><p>You pressed your lips to my eye on the side of Ra.</p><p>“<em> Mine </em>”</p><p>Your lips devoured my own with a ravenous urgency and some holy magic shattered for you fell through the water, collapsing on my chest in the shallows. My clothes and hair were soaked heavy and I thought I might drown as I swallowed you and the Nile in equal gulps. I fished your hands from my hips and turned you over, burying them on either side of your head in the dark soil of the riverbed. Our foreheads pressed together, I listened to your damp panting in the reluctant pause for air. My tears came unbidden in a surging tide and mingled with the droplets already raining over your face. Your choking sobs wriggled out from under my weight and rivulets of rapture coursed over both your cheeks. </p><p>Every precise detail of your being felt so authentic that I allowed myself the weakness of belief. </p><p>“I never thought I would see you again…” Your frightened voice was too vulnerable for a god-king, my pharaoh, and all I heard were the murmurs of a boy forsaken. “I… I am so alone… Always… Unending and unyielding loneliness… I can’t… no more… I can’t go on….”</p><p>“I wake up <em> for you </em> . I rule <em> for you. </em> I go on <em> for you </em>!” My hands tightened around yours with fury when I spoke, searching your face and shaking with desperate hysteria. “You are not alone! You are not. Ever. I swear it. Every spare moment I am with you in my mind. Every morning I rise exhausted from chasing you in my dreams. You know this. Please. You must know this. You must. Tell me. Please. Swear to me that you know.” </p><p>“Seto…”</p><p>“<em> Swear it to me! </em>”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“Then do not forget again.”</p><p>My lips struck you dumb before you could argue, dragging you out of the water upright into my lap. I felt my heart palpitating against my ribs under your gentle touch, felt the flourishing immodesty in the way you traced the curve of my stomach. I tore your hand away to thread my fingers through yours before my waxing lust could spoil our reunion.  </p><p>“I didn’t want to die.” You whispered as though it were an apology.</p><p>“No one wants to die.” I spat back.</p><p>You gave a solemn nod as though weighing the merits of this perspective. </p><p>“Perhaps, but we do well to please the gods and come willingly when called to our fate.”</p><p>“No.” I pinned your face between my hands in a brutal rage. “No. Only the weak pass blame to the gods, pharaoh. It is from ourselves that these evils come and by our own recklessness we win sorrow beyond what is given. I refuse to accept this destiny! My soul shall not cross the Duat without yours and should the gods endeavour to stop me they shall be struck down. I will wander this earth for a thousand-thousand years until you are free. I will protect you where Mahad and the others failed. In any world, in any lifetime, my loyalty will endure.”</p><p>“I know better than to contend with you when your mind's made up.” You spoke and your face lightened with the words.</p><p>“You will come back to me.”</p><p>“Are you ordering your pharaoh, <em> priest </em>?” </p><p>“No.” I shot an irresistible glare. “I’m challenging him.”</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> Thirtieth day of Payni, second moon of the low waters </em>
</p><p>I dreamt of rain.</p><p>An endless deluge of cooling relief fell in torrents from the heavens, but not a drop soothed my burning skin. I opened my parched throat to the sky, but the waters tasted of gall. My thirst has left my body dry and spent. I lay consumed in the sands, subjugated by my own hands, yet still I want for more. It seems I dream in vain.</p><p>Fantasy proves an insufficient substitute and yet beguiles me to indulgence. </p><p>I’ve delighted myself with the desires of an apostate and should any prying eyes find these writings I will surely meet fate by decapitation. </p><p>My mind's sunk so low, my pharaoh, because of you. Wrecked itself on your account so bad already that I couldn't like you if you were the best of men, or stop longing for you if you were the worst.</p><p>I hate and I love. If you ask me how, I do not know.</p><p>I only feel it, and I am torn in two.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> Twenty-first of Mesore, fourth moon of the low waters </em>
</p><p>If any of these lines should appear stained or obscured by blots, know that they were occasioned by the anguish of the author. </p><p>I have not dreamed of you for a fortnight, my pharaoh, and I find after your nightly absence that each day grows more dull and tiresome than the last. It seems I am not unknown to Hathor who mingles with her cares a sweet bitterness. My court has grown weary and laments that I have become an addict of a certain breed of melancholy which cannot be cured with herbs. </p><p>I fear the gods withhold the pleasure of your company in hopes I will atone for the blasphemy of my sinful thoughts. I will steadfastly continue to disappoint them. I am losing my patience and my religion and so will pray to any deity, occidental or oriental, who would see fit to return your eidolon to me. </p><p>If you expect that my tongue should confirm what my actions have so long declared, I <em> burn </em>. My heart is a ripening field of wheat, where driving east-winds spread the catching flames. I cannot write the words for to write them would uncage the truth and strengthen its bewitching hold on me.</p><p>Instead, I wish to write your name on these pages one hundred thousand times and then one hundred thousand more, but I cannot risk leaving such a record. I instructed Mana to burn these writings after my death, but she shares your penchant for misbehaviour and I have little faith she will comply. </p><p>I cannot sleep tonight for to sleep is to know disappointment. Instead I write from beside the river, where I dreamt you came to me once before. Come to me again, my pharaoh, and walk with me forever across these silent sands where the stars will be your eyes and the wind will be your hands. </p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> Fourteenth day of day of Phaophi, second moon of flood </em>
</p><p>If anything ever happened to anyone who eagerly longed yet never hoped, that is this precious gift given me by the gods tonight on this anniversary of my birth. </p><p>Sleep was unwilling to claim me, and so I poured over treasury figures at my desk well into the night. The hours lagged on--even the crickets had ceased chirping and put away for rest. A cool breeze came in from the window and made the candlelight dance shadows across the walls. I heard a rustling but took it to be that old cat of yours, Bast, pawing under the bed. </p><p>“Seto” </p><p>Just a name, a thing with feathers perched in the midnight hours. I refused to appease the hallucinations with attention. I kept to my work.</p><p>The wind was rising in the rushes beyond the courtyard and the bedroom air to meet it. The growing howl demanded notice and this time, the candles wavered to near suffocation and the bed canopy floundered like a sail. </p><p>“Seto”</p><p>I listened to the floorboards creak under foot of some… <em> preternatural sojourner </em>, my wild imagination supplied, but my skeptical mind kept calm with unwavering rationality. Which is exactly why I refused to turn around. My fingers tightened around my pen until my knuckles turned white and my throat was too parched to swallow. </p><p>The apparition seemed to have materialized from the ether for I felt the unmistakable heat of breath on the nape of my neck and a leisurely caress drew up the back of my arm from elbow to shoulder. I was paralyzed beneath paroxysms of terror as I prepared to surrender my ba to some hungering spirit-beast. Finally, the hand found my throat and teeth seized the shell of my ear with a gruff snicker. </p><p>“<em> Seto </em>”</p><p>My composure splintered and I leapt from the chair with an undignified squeal. The supernatural aura fled the howling laughter and my face smoldered with the glowing embers of humiliation. </p><p>“You mischievous little miscreant!” I cried, springing up from the floor to tackle my assailant. It was you, my pharaoh, looking excessively cheeky for someone pinned to the ground with hands around their throat. </p><p>“Mischievous?” You tasted the word. “I much prefer foxy. Maybe… <em> naughty </em>?” </p><p>I didn’t think my face could grow any more red, but it managed. My grip tightened.</p><p>“Mmmm…” Your groan vibrated under my fingers and your eyes grew dark. “Is this what you dream about, choking me? Your hands around my neck? Or around… something else? Perhaps you’re the one who’s naughty--”</p><p>“Shut up.” I was seething but was not unaffected by your vixen voice.</p><p>“Oh come on, Seto! What sort of fool do you take me for?” You were wriggling under me, clearly plotting your escape and distracting me with brazen provocation. “I believe it’s as you once said… My presence is the present. It’d be a shame to leave it wrapped.” </p><p>By now, I’d lost all semblance of sobriety and was drunk on the implications. My pulse rang in my ears, my body taxed from darting between terror, fury, and arousal in the span of minutes. </p><p>“I’ll kill you twice.” </p><p>I was an inebriated fool, duped into letting my guard down. Your leg snaked around my waist, your hands seized my wrists and you pitched me on my back, ripping the advantage out from under me in a single fluid motion. I felt exposed, arms over my head and your weight pressed down on my hips. Your eyes gleamed with triumph.</p><p>“I’ve decided to see your threat against my life as you flirting.” </p><p>You swallowed any rebuttal I might have concocted in an irreverent kiss, all impudence and knocking teeth. I put up a halfhearted resistance at first, until your bite sank into my lip and set me wallowing with a depraved moan. I capitulated under your mouth in its campaign against my flesh. You traced from my jaw to the collar of my robe and I dared myself to envision the welts you’d surely leave behind. </p><p>“Pharaoh…”</p><p>I hadn’t realized my arms were free until your hands trailed down my sides to the hem of my robes and the tease your lips lingered over mine again before giving another breathy whisper in my ear.</p><p>“There are far better places for such games than on the ground.”</p><p>My heart froze in my chest at your words, so fragile it could shatter from the slightest touch. I roped my fingers through your shaggy black and red locks and drew your head back to meet my gaze. Your golden earrings swayed and twinkled in the candlelight with the motion. </p><p>“Don’t play with me, pharaoh.” My voice sounded far less threatening aloud than inside my head. Perhaps I called your bluff because your brow drew together in a flickering nervous expression. You were still over my hips and I prayed you wouldn’t notice the way your squirming movements were affecting me.</p><p>“Seto--”</p><p>“Don’t say things you don’t mean.” My words were soft and I could feel myself shaking. I tried to look away.</p><p>But your eyes shone with earnestness before a knowing smile broke over your features.</p><p>“Well then,” You leaned over to purr in my ear. “How… <em> Explicit </em>would you like me to be with my intentions?” </p><p>I dared let my hands wander over your holy shoulders to draw you closer and hide any view of my inflamed features. </p><p>“Very.” The breathless whisper struggled to escape my throat without betraying my raw nerves and the grip of my possessive hands clenched your slight frame.</p><p>“I have long coveted that forbidden thing which was denied me in life.” You raked your nails down my ribs and over my thighs, running your thumbs over the sensitive crook between my hip and leg. “I plan to take you tonight, should you have it. I will make love to you, wholly and fully. And because it has come too late, my love will come deeper, until we lie equally conquered.” </p><p>My breath stuck when you found my solid length through my robes, fingers running lightly over the thin fabric. My body was dragged along by a strange new force, with desire and reason pulling in opposite directions. In the hazy distance, I caught a glimpse of the right choice, but followed the wrong. </p><p>“You’re undignified, pharaoh.” My actions were disloyal to my words, toying dangerously with your tunic that rode ever closer to the delightful curves beneath. </p><p>“Dignity and love rarely continue long together.” </p><p>I gave a rough chuckle at that and let my hands grope higher, revelling in your bare softness.</p><p>“Seto,” You drew back and I met the full force of your garnet stare. “Tell me what you want.”</p><p>“You already know…” I gave your cheeks a squeeze and could feel the warmth of your arousal burning against mine between us. </p><p>“Actions don’t always carry the same weight as words.” You refused to break your needy gaze. “Please…”</p><p>You know I’ve never been much for speaking my feelings, and reaching for words felt like dredging up an anchor. </p><p>“My pharaoh…” I couldn’t keep my eyes open. The intimacy lacerated some deep part of me in a way I was sure would scar.</p><p>“Look at me.” </p><p>I couldn’t hide my anxieties anywhere and held you tight enough to bruise to still my shaking arms.</p><p>“I want <em> you </em>, my pharaoh,” The truth lightened my heavy heart. “All of you. A selfish, blasphemous wish.” </p><p>“Seto,” You peppered tender pecks in strange places; my wrists and elbows and collarbone. “I’ve always been yours, if only you would have asked…”</p><p>I was overwhelmed with the desire for closeness and crushed you in my arms. No words, no lips, no wandering hands--only the love which first entered my heart cloaked in friendship's name. Your deep hum and tug in my hair brought my lust back to the forefront in earnest and confidence with it. I shifted my embrace under your legs and lifted you up, savoring the feel of your easy weight in my arms, and carried you to my bed. </p><p>You refused to release my neck from your vise-like grip and pulled me down onto my knees beside you on the downy surface. You’ve never known restraint, my pharaoh, and you had no plans to learn tonight for you met me with another shameless kiss. I was eager to nip at you as you’d done to me, and your lips parted in an endearing gasp. I felt a need beyond all reason to hear more, now, louder and let my tongue slip past yours to taste the sapid origins of your impossible words. Each lick teased the tempting warmth inside you and my lower half felt starved for touch. </p><p>I longed to trace the way you swallowed all your heavenly noises, but your golden necklaces blocked my path. My kiss walked to your ear.</p><p>“Turn around.” </p><p>You did as instructed, your eyes following over your shoulder, reluctant to look away for even a moment. My hands brushed away your hair and worked with fastidious precision over all the delicate fastenings. Electricity jumped at each light graze against your skin and pricks of gooseflesh rose on your back. I stripped you of the august trappings and let them fall unceremoniously to the sheets. Rosy indents had risen where I’d pressed them into the flesh earlier. I massaged over the delicate skin, pleased with the way you leaned into my touch. </p><p>I unhooked your marvelous earrings and carelessly tossed them away, sucking each tender spot of your lobes into my mouth to elicit that exquisite sigh. I travelled down your arms, unhinging the cuffs that bound your muscles and wrists, always soothing the soreness left behind. I guided you to rest on the cushions so I could move to your ankles, unbinding your legs from their golden chains and pressed my lips to the dainty soles of your feet just to watch you laugh. </p><p>I longed to worship every inch of your godlike body with my mouth and left a line of small bites that set you writhing on my way back to your lips. Only one glorious artifact remained to be discarded. I brushed aside your golden bangs.</p><p>“My pharaoh…” I hesitated.</p><p>“You’ve always been my equal.” </p><p>I curled my fingers around the majestic diadem and cast it aside. </p><p>Your eyes fluttered shut beneath your thick lashes and you exhaled a heavy sigh, released of a king’s burden at last. I kissed each of your eyes as you’d done mine that night in the river before seizing your lips with the same ferocious hunger. </p><p>Your bold tongue slipped behind my teeth and I opened myself to the mingling of our breath. You tasted of exotic fruits and spices and the essence of a tired day. The only thought I could string together was <em> mine </em>. Beyond a want, beyond a need. I couldn’t draw you close enough, deep enough, even as your tongue threatened to choke me. I stole away to stain your neck with possessive purple bruises to admire in the morning that would never come, winning ever less reserved groans with each one. </p><p>I smiled to myself into my next bite while my fingers fished for the soft hollow behind your knee. You let out a yip and bucked your hips up into mine, long enough for me to draw the tails of your tunic free from under your weight and long enough to shiver at the heat of your hardness. </p><p>“<em> Stop! Please! </em>” Your giggles bubbled over and I revelled in your adorable body squirming helplessly in my arms. </p><p>“Still ticklish.” I flashed a damnable grin at the sight of your beet-flushed face, the splash of rouge on the bridge of your nose painting you too boyish for what came next. </p><p>You heaved with pants and kept your hands buried in my chest like tiny claws. I pried them away to lift off your tunic, only breaking with your eyes as it passed over your head. Your bravado refused to falter and as though this were a duel you tilted your chin up the slightest bit to stare at me. Even as the beads of sweat revealed your inner apprehension, you never moved to cover yourself. </p><p>I wished I could see two things at once for I did not want to leave your eyes even as I thirsted for the sight below them. </p><p>The divine view of your russet skin kissed by the rays of Ra left my breath in my lungs.</p><p>“Beautiful…” </p><p>Weak words, but my mind was in a trance savoring every touch. I ran my hands over your chest to thumb at your delicate pink nipples, earning an enticing whimper before tracing the curve of each of your ribs with the lightest caress. You agonized under the heightened sensation, stomach twisting with labored breaths. When at last I reached my goal, I already had you melting in my hands.</p><p>The taught pink flesh of your passion wept in anticipation, twitching with each turn of your body and with each inch of my advance. The heat of your hardness felt feverish when I wrapped my thin fingers around the length and you buckled with a soft moan, drawing your knees together instinctively. With my other hand, I pulled them apart to wedge myself at the base of your shaft. I gave a slow, provisional tug and felt myself grow harder still at the thrill of control, pacing your pulse and your breathing via my strokes. </p><p>My hands grew dry, and with one glance at your pitiful leaking tip I knew I wanted to taste you. You gave a bratty whine at the loss of my touch but closing your eyes left you wholly unprepared for the sloppy, wet warmth that swallowed you next.</p><p>“Mmm… o-oh…<em> Seto…! </em>” </p><p>Your words disintegrated in your mouth, and you bucked so hard into me I had to wrestle your hips to keep from choking. You covered your lips with your hands to suppress the moans, but I yanked them away.</p><p>“I want to hear you beg, pharaoh.” </p><p>“A king n-never.. Nnn.. begs… he orders,” You strung the words together piecemeal along with several hoarse growls. I laughed with your length sunk to the hilt in my throat and the vibrations brought out another moan. I trailed my tongue along the bottom, around the soft head, and pressed into the slit before pulling you out. </p><p>“Don’t be so sure.”</p><p>“You cocky bastard,” You looped your hands through my long locks and in a futile effort to drag me back.</p><p>“Ask nicely.”</p><p>“Of you? Never.”</p><p>“Your loss.” I said with a wry smile. “I want this to last longer than a sucking anyway. I’d hoped our road of battle wouldn’t end so soon.” </p><p>You sat up in my lap and gave a stern frown.</p><p>“Battle? There can be no fair engagement between two on such unequal footing.” You gave a frustrated tug at the front of my robes, and my anxiety returned in force. Your sly fingers traced up the inside of my thigh and your expression grew dark with desire when they wrapped around the fringe of the fabric.</p><p>“I intend to level the playing field.”</p><p>“<em> Wait. </em>” I grabbed your wrist, feeling unsteady in my own skin. </p><p>“Seto,” You crooned, but stilled your hands nevertheless. “I’ve yearned to see you laid bare for longer than you care to know, and you will be all I could imagine and more.”</p><p>“And therein lies the problem…” My hand tightened and I turned my bashful expression towards the sheets. I felt my mouth going dry and my heart raced. I was becoming dizzy, adrift on my own thoughts. Worry settled over your features and you slipped your hands into mine giving a gentle squeeze.</p><p>“What’s wrong?”</p><p>I felt myself retreating inside my own head in a shame-fueled panic, quaking with trepidation, marooned on some unreachable island.</p><p>“Please talk to me, Seto, tell me what you need,” Each time I withdrew, you gave chase with greater resolve. </p><p>My eyes were shut but I felt us face-to-face. Your arms wound around my shoulders and your legs around my waist, cradling me in a tangle of limbs. You rested your chin in the crook of my neck and just breathed airily, tracing endless circles around each bone of my spine. I focused on the steady rise and fall of your chest and the surety in your movements.</p><p>“I want to.” I whispered at last.</p><p>“We can.” Your breath never grew uneven and your hands never stilled down my back.</p><p>“I’m scared.”</p><p>“I’m proud of you. For being honest.”</p><p>“Don’t leave. When you see.”</p><p>“Nothing can change how I feel about you.”</p><p>I took another moment to steel myself before taking your hands, never moving from our embrace. I led them to the hem of my top.</p><p>“You do it.”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>You placed a true, chaste kiss to my lips and sat back just far enough to meet my eyes.</p><p>“I’m going to lift now. Shake your head if you want me to stop.”</p><p>My face burned and my heart thrummed painfully in my chest but your movements never faltered and you never looked away. You drew the indigo cotton over my head and let it fall to the floor. </p><p>I commend the effort, my pharaoh, to hold your face passive but I cannot fault you for your failure to do so. For a long moment I watched you watching me, eyes tracing the lines of gruesome, uneven, purplish bands of scarred flesh disfiguring the left side of my chest. In a sick way, I was glad you began in the front for I still worried the grisly plane of my back would leave you repulsed. </p><p>“May I?” You looked up with those wide, wounded eyes and I nodded. </p><p>With two fingers, you faintly grazed a hideous bulge of gnarled skin, pausing over the seat of my quickened heartbeat. You laid your palm to my side and pressed your thumb along the line with a firm pressure.</p><p>“Does it hurt?”</p><p>“No. They’re old. Before the palace. Before you.”</p><p>You followed a long, deep line to where it wrapped around my back. You picked up your legs to crawl around behind me, and your breath stuck. I know what I look like, from tip to tail, contorted with gross, loathsome deformities everywhere in my leathered skin.</p><p>“What--”</p><p>“Whippings.” </p><p>I rested my hand over the flawless contour of your bronze calf. </p><p>“Do I disgust you?”</p><p>“The act is hideous. You are beautiful.”</p><p>“Don’t patronize me.” I moved to bring my knees to my chest in defense, but you tore down the wall before it was built. </p><p>“I would <em> never </em> disrespect you with pity.” For the second time that night, you denied me the safety of unmet eyes when you took my face in your hands and I took you at your word when I tasted the truth of it on your lips again. </p><p>The heat of your chest against mine when you lay me down was a balm on old wounds. The ease rippled through my tense shoulders and the strain escaped on a heavy sigh. Your hands followed the curve of my ribs past my waist, paying no mind to the difference between rough and smooth patches, before catching your thumbs through the waist of my airy pants. Any lingering pangs of memory were supplanted by the ache in my stomach at your touch on my bare arousal. </p><p>“A fair game now.”</p><p>Lies, my pharaoh, because none of the ways you tortured me were fair. You let me go and left me wanting, but ensured to keep me snared on your lips. I heard your crafty hand fumbling with a drawer by the bedside, leaning into me further as you strained for more reach. I snatched your complicit arm, but it was too late. A corked amphora was already in your palm.</p><p>“Always a creature of habit, Seto,” You gave me a wink.</p><p>“You used to sneak into my room and go through my things?” I balked.</p><p>“Are you really so surprised? But I believe the statute of limitations is up on that crime...” </p><p>You laughed at my hitched groan when your now oil-slick hands returned to my length again and the savory aroma of olives filled the air. You always get what you want out of me, but still I struggled to keep my eyes open and watch the erotic sight of your devious strokes working me closer to my inevitable collapse. One of your sleek hands took my right and you pulled it behind your head, trapping it from wandering. </p><p>Some slyness woke in your eyes in your mercurial way before a single insidious finger stole into that inviolable place and struck a match on all my nerves. I gasped and my free hand weakly protested against your bicep, which only encouraged your finger to curl inside me. I heard your tongue click in amusement. </p><p>“What do you think you’re doing?” My cheeks would be flushed at my predicament if they hadn’t been burning from passion already.</p><p>“Is this not how you imagined it, Seto?” I tried to ignore your methodical scrutiny of my most private pleasure, as though you were looking for something. “I think you’ll enjoy this better than what you had in mind. I know you better than you know yourself.” </p><p>“I’m bigger than you...” My voice sounded raspy and my own ears, and I was fighting a losing battle to deny myself the exquisite pleasure you brought out in me. </p><p>“Maybe in stature but not in spirit.” Whatever favor you sought within me became the favor found and I was tormented with a bliss that stole my thoughts and dignity. </p><p>“<em> Please, pharaoh </em>...Don’t...nnn..I…” I clawed at your hair and your arms, but my protest was only from my own shame at my feeble unraveling and my defiance only earned me another slick finger. Some deserapte whine fell unbidden from my lips and my legs and toes writhed against the sheets.</p><p>“Are you enjoying yourself, Seto?” So prideful in the face of my pleading. I vowed to reduce you to the same vulnerable state.</p><p>“..<em> gods </em> .... <em> yes </em>.” I barely breathed through clenched teeth. </p><p>“Then relax,” Your deep voice encouraged despite the painful stretch to accommodate another of your playful digits. “Don’t fight with me now. Love is a kind of warfare where only by yielding may you obtain victory.”</p><p>Your attempts to kiss me were as useless as my attempts to ground myself while you wore away at my crumbling foundation, turning my resistance to rubble in your arms. </p><p>“Not yet!” You hissed, grabbing my throbbing shaft in a painful lock. “I want to be inside you.”</p><p>It took all my waning discipline to resist the urge to surrender, but I’ve never been one to hand you easy victories. </p><p>“Then what are you waiting for?” I growled out, but the words ended in an unthreatening whine. </p><p>“Always impatient…” Still, you savored every movement like it was priceless and the suspense ripped me apart. I reluctantly allowed the withdrawal of your hand, only for the promise of something more fulfilling.</p><p>Even your typically unwavering confidence betrayed your inexperience for a moment and I felt the slight tremble in your hands as you pulled my thighs apart. Their ginger touch rested over the bones of my hips. My own nervous hands guided you to the goal. I lost sight of your garnet gaze when the initial rapture of your entrance seeped painfully into me. Several choking moans found their way to the surface and my teeth buried themselves in the thin flesh of your shoulder until I tasted the broken skin.</p><p>“Are you hurt?” I was grateful that you didn’t stall your steady advance until you’d buried yourself to the heart of me. I couldn’t still my quivering muscles, and you began to smooth my damp hair back from my face. </p><p><em> Yes... </em>I thought to answer the truth but sided with my deeper desires instead.</p><p>“Don’t you <em> dare </em> stop.” I compelled myself to move first, but you soon stole the thrusts from me, nailing my agonized body to the bed. Your relentless onslaught was a heartbeat against a shard of my soul and the broken pieces fell out between my scattered gasps.</p><p>“...S..Se-t-to…” The sound of my name decomposed in your mouth set me reeling in a pleasurable distress, but your rhythm was becoming uneven as you neared your own release. I found some sense of gravity in your words and pushed you back. Your expression was equal parts surprised and worried.</p><p>“Let me…”</p><p>You weren’t strong enough to resist when I pushed you down and you resigned yourself to my control on your small figure. I trapped your hands over your head with no thought of escape and lowered my aching body over your hardness once again. </p><p>I let myself fall heavy and endless, at the seat of my own pleasure, until I couldn’t open my eyes to look at you and every thread of my focus was tied to holding out from escape, that the horses of the night would run slowly toward the dawn of your departure. All that tethered me was your warmth and your voice.</p><p>“Always… I’ve always... “</p><p>Your words wouldn't come out between the sound of skin on skin.</p><p>“Nnnn… I…I’ve.. Always loved you… Seto, always.”</p><p>I buried deep in my mind the sober truth--that none of this was real--for you could only whisper such sweet intoxications in the logic of my dreams.</p><p>They are written on running water.</p><p>They are written on air.</p><p>You grabbed my leaking shaft and with the help of your hand I burst from the emotion of your words, spilling myself on your stomach with the disgraceful tears of a well-ravished soul. Your unyielding passion beat upwards against my hips and didn’t stop for me to recover. It only built to some desperate pleading climax of your own.</p><p>“Tell me... Please, Seto… Tell me what I need to hear…”</p><p>My words overflowed, locked away so long waiting for the key. </p><p>“I love you! <em> Gods, I love you, phar-- </em>”</p><p>“No! ..no..nnnn..not ‘pharaoh’… <em> Seto, please! </em>…please say it, not ‘pharaoh’…”</p><p>You begged me to speak your name, and so I called you perfection.</p><p>I thought perhaps you’d died of ecstasy when you spent yourself inside me and my already overstimulated body was helpless beneath your shivering release. Your earlier promise was fulfilled, and I felt myself brimming with all of you, too much, and the evidence spilled over onto the sheets. </p><p>In a moment, the room felt too quiet, with cries replaced by soft warm breath the same volume at the breeze through the window. I was collapsed and immobile, helplessly empty, propped against your clammy skin. Your arms snaked around my waist and neglected to remove yourself at first. The throbbing lingered and was a reminder of how alive you felt here with me.  </p><p>When we rolled over face to face, detached but foreheads pressed together, and you cradled me in two loving arms that I’d die for. I couldn’t stop the beseeching tears from falling and neither could you. There were no words left to exchange but uncountable affirmations of love, one for every day of every lifetime that might be spent apart again. I desperately fought off the spectre of sleep, but your arms were gentle, and my heart was weary.</p><p>There was one final kiss and my pharaoh, good night. </p><p> </p><p>I woke alone in the darkness at my desk with the candles burnt out. </p><p>The finest perfumes could never torture me more than the ghost of your breathe in that moment. My heart was ripped from my chest and I strained for air in the vacuum. I let my head in my hands and my chest shook with violent sobs.</p><p>These conjurations are but a shade of your divinity, playing in the shape of my desires.</p><p>Better a sparrow, living or dead, than no birdsong at all.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> Seventh day of Athyr, third moon of flood </em>
</p><p>I dreamt I met you in the field of reeds.</p><p>I recall standing at the precipice of the palace courtyard, drinking in the grandeur of the flawless landscape. The portico was striped with lengthening shadows, and the hues of the setting sunlight grew warmer even as the air cooled off. The evening breeze carried off the shallow reflecting pool. The glass surface glistened, refracting the ruby rays, and I watched the kaleidoscope trace shadows of a black, spiked shape against one of the far pillars. A second gust carried through the breezeway and a strip of gossamer linen danced in the air, further betraying the presence of your figure in the distance.</p><p>I realized I was holding my breath. Every moment since my arrival felt intentional, an intricate weave from my own delicate heartstrings that might unravel at the slightest breath of doubt. My face burned with warmth and I convinced myself it was just the fading desert sun drifting low over the river. I dared my feet to shuffle over the paving stones and exhaled, pleasantly surprised that the dream seemed impervious to my self-awareness. </p><p>You looked resplendent, my pharaoh, every detail of your figure imbued with the golden majesty of the setting sun. Your delicate frame draped over the balcony and your tawny skin was tinted an ethereal bronze in the evening light, accented with the royal splendour of cuffs and crown. Your crimson gaze burned towards the horizon and I caught a brief glimpse of your forlorn expression when the next breeze drew back your feathered bangs before they resettled over your brow. </p><p>“I missed you,” You said, eyes still transfixed on some indiscernible spot in the west. </p><p>I scoffed, but felt my lips curl up at the edges despite myself. I drifted over to the stone ledge, leaning my own arms over the wall. </p><p>“Like you missed a rock in your shoe,” I said. I looked up in time to catch your eyes soften as you turned to me and I heard your laughter ringing over the terrace.</p><p>“Kaiba…” Your lips were reverent when you named me thus. “Would you believe if I said paradise has palled rather quickly?” </p><p>“What, the fattened calves of Punt lack the thrilling zest of Burger World?” I said without thinking. I do not know what “Burger World” is but you let out another uproarious peal of laughter before your face hardened and you gave a serious answer. </p><p>“I value nothing that does not sometimes cause me pain. You are clever enough to see this failing in me and cunningly found the means by which I might be enthralled.” </p><p>“Glad to hear you’re relishing the sting of today’s defeat, pharaoh.”</p><p>“Why did you follow me to this place?”</p><p>“Why did you leave me without a backwards glance?” I spat. </p><p>“I am nothing if not a man of faith.” You smiled ruefully. </p><p>I stared at my pale fingers that shimmered with a subtle aura, a bizarre purple dust stinging my flesh as it tore free of my body and faded to nothingness. The air looked as it does through a lens, glimmering across my alabaster flesh like a thin coating of mother of pearl where it distorted the surrounding fabric of reality. Aaru itself was reminding me that I was a grain of sand, insignificant and unwelcome, trying to spit me out of this world. The effect was growing more apparent, warping the light around my figure and transmuting me into a desert mirage with each passing moment. </p><p>I grit my teeth and doubled over at the waist. You wound your hands deep into the sleeves of my white coat, struggling to catch me before my complete collapse. A hiss escaped my throat as I struggled against the agony of my body ripping apart from the inside out. </p><p>“We don’t have much time…” I said, looking up. I did not want you to see the tears burning behind my eyes, but I was desperate to steal a parting glance. If this should be the last thing I ever saw, I wanted it to be your golden brilliance branded into my final memory. </p><p>As though you read my mind, my pharaoh, your familiar piercing glare bored straight into my soul when you spoke. </p><p>“You will come back to me.”</p><p>“Is that an order, <em> your majesty </em>?” I felt the edges of my perception darkening, but refused to shut my eyes.</p><p>“No.” You gave an imperious smirk. “It’s a challenge.”</p><p> </p><p>It is a perverted irony that I should dream of this tonight for by the wickedness of the millennium rod, I have concluded your final request. Henceforth none but me shall bear the weight of your name, my pharaoh, and I keep this cherished treasure sealed within my heart. </p><p>It is impossible to surrender a life-long love. I am only a mortal, and I will bear my confirmed passions until my last sun sets and my bones are the dust of the earth.</p><p>Oh gods, let me drink the waters of the river Oblivion that numb the heart, if they exist. I will still not have the power to forget you.</p><p>Do not forget me.</p>
<hr/><p>Atem thought his mind was broken as much as his heart when he read the words over and over until their meaning faded and only the pleading emotion remained.</p><p>
  <em> Do not forget me. </em>
</p><p>Atem regretted wasting his tears on the previous entries. His body was wracked to the core with dry sobs, whimpers, and hiccups, unabashed that he might wake the palace in the middle of the night. He drew his knees up to his chest, keeping his shaking fingers wrapped tightly around the cover of the journal and held it close. He had never felt so small. </p><p>“Oh, Seto, you fool…” He whispered against the pages. “How could I forget my own heart?”</p><p>Atem sniveled into his downy pillow, without bothering to pull down the disheveled sheets. A one-sided game of shatranj sat abandoned on the low table with a single lukewarm cup of coffee. The light by the bedside blew out from a gentle breeze, and the pharaoh drifted into a dreamless sleep. </p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fic was brought to you by our sponsors, Ovid and Catullus, who are probably so fucking hype that the spirit of their homoerotic poetry lives on in the form of recycled one-liners in gratuitous m/m slash anime fanfiction two millenia later. </p><p>Only two of the dreams are meant to be “real” (as in actually visits from Atem): the one on Atem’s birthday and the one on Seto’s birthday, as a gift from the gods. There’s also two visions of the future, one from Battle City and one from post-DSOD, but the rest are just dreams where Seto confronts his feelings for Atem.</p><p>♡ Please leave your thoughts in the comments, I'm always striving to improve my writing! ♡<br/> [especially with this one, it was very verbose and experimental ha ha]</p><p><i>Formerly known as <b>talladeganights</b></i><br/>Find me on Tumblr: <a href="https://rooksacrifice.tumblr.com/">RookSacrifice</a> (main) and <a href="https://atembomb.tumblr.com/">atembomb</a> (Yu-Gi-Oh!)<br/>Find me on Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/RookSacrifice">@RookSacrifice</a><br/>Roast me in the <a href="https://discord.com/invite/rdqAndnaB2">Prideshipping Discord</a></p></blockquote><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27321676">[podfic] I Dream of Rain</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/arkadyevna/pseuds/arkadyevna">arkadyevna</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
</div></div></div>
</body>
</html>